Chapter Twenty-Six
Slider’s funeral was emotional and heartfelt. There wasn’t much said, but in all honesty, it really didn’t need many words. Slider was a bright soul whose life spoke for itself. He was gone too young, but you also couldn’t say that he hadn’t lived.
Wrench had spent the last two days in communication with his sister. With Judge’s help, he’d finally been able to track her down and let her know what had happened. I guess it was a little too late for them, and that broke my heart, but seeing her there to say goodbye was uplifting.
Hopefully, with the brothers around her, they could give her a little peace of mind in knowing that he was loved and cherished in the world. And despite what they had gone through as kids, that he was never without a smile on his face.
He’d found a family here.
I stood back beside the corner of the church as the boys carried him out. I wanted Wrench to be with his brothers, and Harlyn was strong in her feelings about being there for her dad.
A tear slipped down my cheek as they loaded him inside the hearse, the sheer amount of people that had come to say their goodbyes was mind blowing. Brothers from other charters around the states had come to offer their condolences and celebrate the life of a man that no one would ever forget.
“Must be so sad to lose someone you care about,” the voice came from behind me.
My spine straightened, and I looked over my shoulder, finding Peter just a few feet away, mimicking my stance. His shoulder was braced against the wall, and his hands hung at his side, one holding a gun casually as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
I took a step back into the shadow of the church, the small alleyway not even wide enough for me to stretch my arms across. Turning, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Go home, this isn’t the place nor time, unless you want to be killed.”
With the brothers already in a shitty place, it would only take one word from Peter, and someone would start swinging. This was about appreciating and celebrating Slider’s life. There was no way in hell I was gonna let him get away with turning that into something destructive.
He shrugged. “I wonder how many bullets I can fire off. How many people I can take down before they even think to reach for their weapons.”
The bristles on my back stood up and I took a step back. He raised the gun, pointing it directly at me, and I froze.
“Let’s go for a little drive, shall we?” he asked, even though I knew at that point there was no option. I gritted my teeth and moved down the alleyway, hoping like hell that no one walked by and questioned my escape.
He directed me in between two other buildings before we came out on another street where there was a limo waiting. The driver stood at the door, holding it open for us. I heard the roar of motorcycles start up and my stomach sunk as I rushed to climb into the car, knowing that they would be heading this way toward the cemetery. Peter took his time, and I watched out the window as the bikes rounded the corner and headed toward us.
Not one of them looked as they formed a progression behind the hearse. I spotted Wrench, and my gut dropped as his eyes flicked toward the limo for just a brief second, feeling like he was looking directly at me. I knew he couldn’t see me, the tint on the windows just too dark, but it was like he could sense I was there.
“Take us home,” Peter ordered, and the driver gave him a firm nod as he slammed the door shut and rounded to the driver’s side. We’re barely moving before Peter opened the bar and poured himself a drink. It wasn’t uncommon to see him holding a glass of some kind, swirling champagne or sipping at expensive wines.
It wasn’t just a dinners or gatherings either. He’d pour a glass with lunch or even take one with him to his office while he was working. Occasionally, I’d even find empty glasses in the bathroom, but up until now, it had just seemed normal.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with what resembled joy or excitement.
I screwed up my nose. “No, I would not,” I told him harshly, knowing that he could slip me almost anything in one of those glasses. If that was his plan, to make me an addict again, I hope he knew that I knew exactly what he was up to.
He shrugged uncaringly and settled back into his seat. I wanted to vomit. I hadn’t felt this trapped in a long time, sitting in a car with the man who made it his life mission to destroy me.
“I heard a whisper in the wind that you’d visited with Eric,” he started, not holding back his disgust when he mentioned his friend’s name. Eric had said that they weren’t close anymore, but maybe Peter wasn’t happy with the fact Eric was moving on with his life and distancing himself from Peter’s crazy. “Taking the kid out of the equation. Smart move.”
He nodded as though he almost appreciated the counter actions I’d taken against him. I knew for a fact that it wasn’t information that just floating to him on the breeze, he would have had to go looking for it.
“Did that hurt? Knowing one of your friends helped me?” I taunted. Without warning, he slammed his palm against the window of the car. I jumped and pulled back, my eyes wide.
“Eric is no friend of mine,” he sneered, his eyes alight with fire. “He betrayed me.”
I watched him cautiously as his anger filled the car with churning tension. I guess he knew what Eric did, he knew he’d helped me escape him.
Of course he did.
I decided to play it safe, keep my mouth closed and not push his buttons any more than I had too. The more comfortable he was with me, the better. I needed him to share information, rant and rave so that I could somehow figure out what his end game was within all of this.
Was it just to hurt me?
Did he have some ulterior motive?